


Dear Past, Dear Future

by tryslora



Series: Dear Past, Dear Future [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Relationships, Epistolary, Gen, Lydia Martin & Jackson Whittemore Friendship, Minor Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Minor Liam Dunbar/Mason, Minor Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia needs someone to talk to about the pack, and that person just happens to be Jackson. And Jackson? He just needs someone to talk to sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Past, Dear Future

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softintelligence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/gifts).



> Dear softintelligence, I loved the idea of Jackson and Lydia's friendship, and I couldn't get the idea of them writing to each other out of my head. This fic is sort of low-key, but that's what letters are, and I hope you like this view into their worlds. I figured that in the aftermath of everything that happened, they needed someone to talk to, and they've been through so much together that the friendship is something fantastic to hold on to.

Dear Jackson,

 

It’s only one year until graduation, and there are days when I wonder if we will get to walk across the stage. Allison and Aidan and so many others won’t, but we are still trying to move forward. Sometimes I think Stiles has a death wish, although that might be Malia’s influence. The two of them are wild, pushing every limit until Scott reigns them in.

Our pack keeps growing. We have allied with Satomi’s pack, and Brett spends more time with us than with them, I think. Mason isn’t a werewolf or anything supernatural, but he might as well be for the amount of time he spends with us, much like Danny. I think Liam is trying to convince Mason to ask Danny out, but that’s just not going to happen. Danny keeps hooking up with  that useless ex of his. Ever since he came back from spending the semester with you, he seems more and more determined to find a way to settle down in a permanent relationship, even if it happens to be one of the biggest assholes in our class.

He must really miss you.

So yes, we have Brett, Mason and Liam, who are all thrilled to be almost done with their freshman year and no longer the butt of all jokes that high school brings. Malia will most likely be repeating her junior year, which is not entirely unexpected. We managed to help her succeed in most of her classes, but the school board denied the (entirely falsified) evidence of her home schooled years, thus they are requiring her to attend summer school and the decision of which class she will be a part of will be made after those classes are complete.

Malia cried at the idea of more math, then went out for a run and brought down a deer. Did I mention that she has regained control of her coyote form? The Hale genes run true, and once Derek could easily make the shift to wolf and back, he was able to help her find her inner-coyote while remaining human. I am amazed, at times, that she stays with the pack, but she seems to feel some connection to Stiles, and surprisingly to Kira as well. She is still learning what it means to be human, but there are some things she learns more quickly than others, and she is a surprisingly good mimic and study of personality. I suspect that is her father’s influence.

And yes, Peter is still here, hovering over us, pretending to be aloof and yet remaining mired amongst the teen drama of our pack. I think he is entertained by the adults, and is particularly interested in the curiosity of Jordan’s existence. I do not mean that in the romantic sense; I’m quite sure that Peter only wants what he can use to further his advantage, and nothing more. Jordan is of interest because he is still alive, despite three separate events which should have resulted in his demise in the last six months alone.

It isn’t that Peter wants him; it is that Peter wants to _be_ him. Or perhaps he feels kinship, after rising from the dead himself.

Our almost senior class feels small when we sit in the auditorium, listening the guidance counselors drone on about the stresses coming in our final year. I feel Allison’s ghost with me sometimes, as if she looks over my shoulder and helps choose my classes. Danny looks at me, watches me, nudges me when I get lost in the voices.

We stick together, constantly, as if our pack is afraid that one of us might wander off if we can’t keep each other in our sights at all times. With Malia potentially moved into a different class, we feel off-balance.

Scott, Stiles, Kira, Danny, myself. As teenage groups within a class go, it’s fairly small.

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since you died and went to London (that would sound far more odd, but I’m a banshee, and London at least is a place that makes more sense than if I were talking to you across piano strings). I’m sorry your parents refuse to allow you to visit; we were all hoping to see you this summer. I will talk to my mother about a trip to Paris and London before fall, although I’m not sure she’s willing to let me out of Beacon Hills right now. Our parents are keeping us close as well.

Write back soon. Are you still seeing Jessica or has she seen past the pretty veneer to the asshole inside? I still say you ought to give her my email address; no one knows you better than I do.

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

I broke up with Jessica, not the other way around.

It just wasn’t working out. For one, she’s dumb as a box of rocks. I don’t mean that she doesn’t measure up to you—no one’s that brilliant, not even Danny. She’s just dull. She thought I wanted to talk about fashion and celebrities all the fucking time, and I was bored out of my mind. Give me some credit for a little intelligence. I might not be future MIT material like you and Danny, but I’m still going to do five A levels here.

There’s no one right now, and I’m okay with that. I remember what you said after Aidan, that you wanted to figure out who you were and try to stand on your own. I’m obviously surrounded by idiots, so I need to find something and someone else to do. Flying solo seems my best option for now.

My father insists that I get a job this summer. He has some idea that I’m going to just pop down to the local chippy and convince them to hire me on cleaning tables. He also has the ridiculous idea that it’ll be _good_ for me to have a job like I’m some low-life that actually needs income. Ridiculous. I don’t intend to spend my summer up to my elbows in grease. If he wants me to work, he can get me the internship I asked for. If I’m going to act like a servant, I’ll do it for lawyers, not the random public that thinks they can laugh at me for working such a crap job.

He thinks I need more responsibility. He doesn’t like that I’ve been hanging out with a couple of friends at one of the pubs and that there might be some guys cheering football there. He says these people get into gangs, fight a lot. And sometimes they do. Tempers run high; it’s not like any sport over there. In the US, fights for hockey only happen in the rink… here the fights over footie happen everywhere. Sometimes people get killed.

It’s not like that for me, you know.

Shut up.

Okay, it’s a little like that. 

It’s just… I don’t have a pack. I’m still an omega, and it’s been a _year_ and there’s nothing I can do at the full moon. Derek gave me just enough information to keep me from killing anyone, and my parents refuse to see the issue. So I have to do _something_ , and as it turns out, pub fights help.

I don’t hurt anyone, I promise.

And anything they do to hurt me heals before morning, so my parents never know.

My friends don’t know the truth. I make sure they don’t realize it, although Miles might suspect. He likes his pints and his pot, though, so he might also think he’s just hallucinating.

So yeah, there’s my life. Still boring.

If you get your mom to do that Paris trip, let me know. We’ll meet you there. Because my dad won’t let me fly across the ocean to visit you and Danny, but my mom would love any excuse to explore couture in Paris.

No, I’m not above lying. It’s not like she’d care who I see once we’re there.

Is Isaac still in Paris? Maybe I’ll suggest the shopping trip anyway. It has to be better than hanging around here, and my dad might forget about me and working if I’m not right there in front of him the first few days of the summer holiday.

Write back with more gossip. How’s testicle one handling being the supreme alpha? Has testicle two fallen flat on his face trying to help him yet?

And tell Danny he’s an idiot, his ex or whatever he is now is an absolute ass, and Danny’s worth better than that. And tell him to avoid the werewolves, they aren’t any better. Find someone nice for him. Someone who’ll actually give a shit about him, because Danny’s the kind of guy who actually gives a shit about other people, even when they don’t deserve it.

Tell that Mason kid I said that he should give it a shot. I bet Danny’d say yes to going out just because he feels like he shouldn’t say no. Then take pictures and send them to me. Oh, and tell Mason that if he hurts Danny, I’m going to hurt him. Just in case.

I’m going to go work on my mom and that Paris trip.

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

You have no idea how much trouble you caused.

Of course, I’m the only one who knows it was you, and to be honest it was entertaining in only the way matters of heartbreak for other people can be.

I passed along your message to Mason at the start of a pack meeting on Thursday. He has this earnest _freshman_ way of looking at things, and his eyes went wide like he didn’t believe me. So of course I patted his hand, assured him that I wasn’t lying and that I’ve known Danny since we were all three, then sent him on his way.

He couldn’t have possibly done it better if I’d coached him.

Mason waited until there was a break in the meeting. Not the end, no, he got up as soon as Danny stood to go into the kitchen offering to help bring back snacks. He tried to keep his voice low, but it _is_ a room full of werewolves and I might have been accidentally-on-purpose passing by on my way to the bathroom at the same time.

So he caught Danny just in the doorway to the kitchen and held onto his wrist. And Danny had that look—the kind, slightly bewildered, _why is this freshman encroaching on my space_ expression. But he waited, because he’s Danny, and he’s _nice_. I don’t even know why he puts up with _you_. It’s as if the two of you balance each other out on the cosmic asshole scale.

Oh shut up, you know I love you.

Since I was passing by, and Mason was standing there like Danny had just accosted _him_ , I whispered, “Spit it out.”

Thus, Mason blurted out, “Movie. Tomorrow. It’ll be dark. My treat.”

As if that’s a good way to ask someone out. I’d thought he’d be better than that, but apparently not.

Danny, bless his heart, understood the invitation. The pack, of course, was reacting since they had heard every awkward word. It may not be polite, but they are teenage boys and unable to keep their ears to themselves. Brett was cackling, and Liam looked absolutely thunderous. Stiles was amused, and Scott looked concerned.

Danny said yes, of course.

Liam stormed out, slamming the door, no easy feat considering it’s the loft and the door _slides_. Werewolf strength is handy for a tantrum. Derek won’t be pleased if it turns out he’s dented the door.

I took Brett out for coffee and he spilled the secret: Liam is jealous. Apparently Liam has begun to question his sexuality and would like to question it further with Mason, who is now going out with Danny tonight.

We _are_ a soap opera. Don’t you miss us?

 

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

I’m off to Paris. The summer holidays began yesterday and tomorrow my mother and I are on our way to France for a six day adventure.

I say _adventure_ as that’s how I explained it to my father. I told him that she’d make sure I saw all the best sights, museums, and historical places. I might have promised to write some kind of bullshit paper to prove that I’m being educated along the way.

She, of course, plans on shopping and abandoning me to my own devices.

As long as I’m not working, I don’t care what I’m doing.

How did Danny’s date go? Is Mason as young as he sounds? How can these people only be two years younger than us? Tell Liam to grow a pair and hold onto what he wants. If he’s interested in shagging his best friend, he should just tell him. Danny never had an issue telling me he wasn’t interested.

Not that I was interested.

The point is, they should talk. Don’t lose a friendship over a guy. It’s not worth it.

God, Lydia, I can’t _wait_ to leave tomorrow. London is so boring. I’ll be in Paris for the full moon on Sunday and I can’t wait to have a new place to explore. To run, to howl. To do _something_ that’s actually interesting.

I’ve heard there’s an underground fight club there. I might go. I promise I won’t get hurt in any permanent ways. I’ll text before I go in and after I come out.

Last time I talked to Danny he said you still have me whipped. It’s not true. I know you care, and I give a shit about what you think. Same reason you text me when you’re meeting random guys, so I know you’re okay.

Speaking of. Any romanticism on your horizon? I know you’re still getting your feet, but this is the longest I’ve seen you stand alone.

Tell me what you want most from Paris. Make it extravagant. I am spending more of my father’s money than he expects, just in case he thinks he’s going to force me into servitude when I get back. If I’m going to be pushed into work as a punishment, I want to have something to be punished for. Might as well spend the money before I make it, right?

No men, though. If I can’t come back to Beacon Hills, I’m not going to send someone else in my place.

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

I don’t want you to send me a man. When I’m done being celibate for the moment, I’ll figure out what I want and who I want. Right now I just want to be free of all the encumbrances of relationships. Malia doesn’t understand. The other day she said to me, “I thought you liked sex. Why aren’t you having sex with anyone?”

And I do. I love sex. You know that.

What I don’t like is expectations. And no matter how carefully I lay out the ground rules, no matter how _clear_ I make it, they all think they get more than one time. They think they can call the shots.

That’s not how it works, and if I can’t be in control, I’m not going to indulge.

We were good together that way, weren’t we? We were just a train wreck in every other way. I’m glad you’re my friend now. I can’t think of anyone closer to me. Allison, if she were still alive. Sometimes Stiles, but that’s complicated.

Malia’s next question was whether sex was the same with men and women. I told her that I’ve never been with a woman, and she asked, “Why not?”

There’s never been one that attracted me like that. Women are beautiful. They’re my friends. I adored Allison with my whole heart, but I never wanted her that way. On the other hand, I think Malia would like to gobble Kira up. Which might absolutely terrify Kira, so I have no idea whether that will happen or not.

It’s adorable, though, watching Malia flounder her way through courtship. She asked if I thought Kira would like deer; I suggested a stuffed animal instead. Last night, at our sleepover, Malia very carefully set a very old and well-loved stuffed cat in Kira’s lap. I think it might have been Malia’s when she was a child, something her other father kept for her when she went missing.

Kira loved it, and Malia looked so pleased. Malia curled up with her head in Kira’s lap, and Kira played with her hair for hours. While I understand that coyotes do not _purr_ , Malia definitely made a sound of contentment.

I felt like a chaperone, just a little, but they were sweet.

If you want to know about Danny’s date, ask Danny, because apparently Mason has a very different view of events.

Mason met him at the movie theater, since Danny couldn’t get the car and Mason obviously can’t drive yet. According to Mason they held hands, shared popcorn and soda, and talked constantly through the movie. He kissed Danny at the end, before they left.

Danny thinks Mason’s a sweet kid, but he’s too nice. Mason thinks Danny walks on water and is trying to figure out how to more coherently ask for date number two.

Liam walks around growling every time Mason and Danny are in the same room together. Brett thinks it’s hysterical.

Could you please tell Danny to let him down easily, but make it absolutely clear that he has no chance? Perhaps have him suggest to Mason that he should look a little closer to home.

I’m sure Danny has a hundred stories about you that he could tell. After all, Danny didn’t have to remind you that you aren’t his type for no reason. Even if there _are_ moments that I swear he’s trying to date you in a different form. He just doesn’t want _you_.

I’m envious of your Paris trip and crushed that my mother refused to let me go. I want jewelry and clothing. You know my tastes, and the smaller and more unique the boutique, the better.

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

What the hell is Derek doing in Paris?

More to the point: _why didn’t you tell me_?

Why did I have to find out when I was in the middle of a run on the full moon, when I _ran into him_ on a Paris street? Mom was in her hotel room, I was completely free to do whatever the fuck I wanted, then next thing I know there’s a wall of an ex-alpha standing in my way and it doesn’t matter whether he’s an actual alpha or not because I’m still stopping when he says so.

Apparently the fact that he bit me trumps the part where he’s not an alpha. No, I don’t know if it works like that for Isaac or not. _They_ get along. Derek and I don’t.

He growled and flashed his eyes and _damn it_ , Lydia, I went to my knees. Right there in the middle of the street, on my knees, while Isaac’s cackling his ass off. Fucking asshole. Might as well rename McCall’s pack as the home for wayward assholes.

So we stayed there for a while, and he stared at me while Isaac laughed. When Derek growled again, though, Isaac shut it. “We’re not bringing him with us,” Isaac muttered, but Derek gestured for me to get up and yeah, I went with them.

No fight club. No drinking. Derek knew this place where we could run, so we did that.

He tried to show us how he shifts into a wolf. Isaac ended up climbing a tree after he failed. I threw a punch at Derek because _fuck him_ for showing up _now_ and trying to make me feel like I’m a crap werewolf. We ended up on the ground, wrestling, and he pinned me.

Derek smells weirdly good when he’s angry.

We’re all getting together for lunch tomorrow, while my mom’s getting a spa thing done. Every time I think of him, I get pissed off, and I can feel the wolf coming out. Then I smell his jacket—I ended up wearing it—and the wolf calms down.

What the hell is that, Lydia?

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

_McCall’s Home for Wayward Assholes_

If I liked to do crafty things like embroidery, I might make him a small tapestry to hang on the walls. Maybe Kira will draw one; she’s good with markers and poster board, and I’m sure I could encourage Malia to let loose with the glitter.

You haven’t met Liam and Brett yet. Liam has an actual disorder that states that his temper is explosive and could go off at any moment. You can imagine that being a werewolf hasn’t made it any better. Underneath the rage, he’s a good kid. He seems so _young_ , but he hasn’t been through as much as the rest of us. There’s a story somewhere in his past, but I don’t know it. He managed to escape it without being jaded though, just arrogant and temper-tossed. 

Then there’s Brett, who has all of your arrogance and none of your insecurities. He’s a born wolf from Satomi’s pack, and he has always known that he is better than the humans around him, which used to include Liam. They have a rivalry that dates from private school.

Honestly, Danny, Mason, and Scott are the only actual _nice_ guys in the pack.

Yes, I include Stiles among the assholes. I’m not blind. I just like him. Sometimes he reminds me of you.

It’s been a week since you last wrote, you know. Where are the rest of my Derek stories?

And I didn’t tell you because how was I to know that you’d cross paths? He’s on some mission in Europe, and he said he’d be checking in on Isaac as a part of it, but his itinerary also had him in Moscow, Berlin, and somewhere in Spain that I didn’t pay attention to. He’s collecting lore from hunters and information that we need as a pack in order to grow and thrive. He has finally managed to get it through his head that if he’s going to be an asset to the pack, he needs to act like one. He has all the information and the contacts, as a Hale, to get things done. It is up to him to teach and nurture our young true alpha, and he has finally decided to actually do so.

They tore his house down, did you know that? Razed the ruins to the ground and took them away. There is nothing left of the Hale house but a smudge of ashes on the ground. He had to fight to buy his own land back from the town—he had to pay back taxes that weren’t paid by the estate, and make a promise that he would not subdivide nor develop within the preserve. There are contractors surveying the land while he is gone. I think he expects to build a new home. I don’t know if it’s for the pack or for himself.

Meanwhile, yes, we’ve been using his loft as a meeting place. I think Melissa enjoys the relief from supernatural teenagers nearly destroying her home.

Mason asked Danny out again. This time he remembered to be away from the wolves, so I can’t say _exactly_ what happened, only Danny’s version of the events. Apparently Mason caught up to him outside of school, and this time he managed to speak the words without stammering or hesitating. And Danny simply said _no_.

Mason arrived at the next pack meeting looking (and apparently smelling) crushed. Brett shoved him off the couch and made him sit in the chair with Liam, who was the only one not complaining about the stench of teenage despair.

Brett’s not subtle. Every time either Mason or Liam tried to get up, Brett found an excuse to get them back in the chair together.

The sad part is, neither of them is getting it. Boys can be so oblivious.

I have to admit, the advantage of being around assholes is that in general, they can be plain-spoken. I never have to worry about where I stand with Stiles or you. You both speak your mind, say what you mean. It’s refreshing.

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

I left Paris before Derek did. 

We all had lunch that day. Isaac’s doing well, it turns out. Chris Argent set him up as an exchange student living with a family of hunters in Paris, which sounds like a recipe for disaster but it’s a good thing. Derek met with them, has copies of their bestiary and some specific hunter lore that he was interested in to help the McCall pack.

He insists on calling it the McCall pack. As if he has nothing to do with who they really are anymore.

The hunters are… they’re not bad. I’ve got the email address of the eldest daughter, who is nothing like Allison, but she’s nothing like Allison’s mother or aunt, either, which is good. She’s tiny and fierce and brutally honest and blunt. She hated me on first sight because of the blue eyes, then offered to dissect me for more information because apparently a kanima who manages to survive to transform to a werewolf is rare and they need to know more about me.

I suggested email to get into my head instead, and thankfully she agreed. I’m not really into dissections.

She’s also going to talk to Derek, because he is—in her terms—the grumpiest but nicest blue-eyed evil werewolf she’s ever met.

Isaac thought the whole encounter was fucking hysterical, because he’s an asswipe.

Mom and I went home to London two days later.

I went out running with Derek the night before I left. He did the thing where he turns into a wolf and yipped at me like I’m going to become a fucking wolf, too. Fuck that, it’s not going to happen.

He tackled me and held me down and Lydia, _he still smells good_. It’s weird, right?

He changed back to human and asked why I won’t even try.

Okay, he yelled at me and ranted and at the end the “asking” was more like screaming at me at the top of his lungs.

I just stayed there. I didn’t answer, and I was hard as a fucking rock because he had me face down and he was leaning into me and if you tell another person this I _will_ kill you. He bit my neck and growled and I swear to God, my wolf wanted me to roll over and get fucked right there.

And the entire time the rest of me was thinking that I can’t transform, I can’t even _try_ , because what if I become the kanima again? What if that lizard thing _is_ my final form?

I’m serious, Lydia. Don’t tell anyone. Not about the lizard thing, not about the hard-on for Derek.

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

You know, you could have made your life far simpler if you’d done two things: one, check to see if Derek was hard too, and two, tell him that you want him to fuck you.

I mean _honestly_. If you want it, then take it, especially if it’s offered. No one is going to tell you that it’s wrong to fuck a guy. Your best friend is gay, remember? We all _know_ you go both ways. _No one_ , and I mean that very literally, will be shocked if you hook up with a guy.

Get him out of your system and move on. He was your alpha and he changed your life. Everything afterward is because of Derek Hale, so I can’t be surprised that you’re attracted to him.

Besides, he’ll probably be a better person if he gets laid. He always seem nicer when he’s getting regular sex. 

Speaking of unconventional courtship: today Malia gave Kira a deer. 

Yes, an actual _deer_.

Kira didn’t scream, which is good. We were out in the preserve for these training sessions that Scott insists on running. The wolves (and coyote, and fox) all train physically, while the rest of us watch, research, catalog data, and occasionally shoot things.

Did I mention that I’ve taken up the crossbow? Chris gave me Allison’s first bow to learn with. It has a lighter draw than the one she used at the end, and is something I’m capable of pulling. Of course, I’ve read extensively about archery since I learned about hunters, but putting it into practice is more difficult.

I’ve also given the wolves several chances to practice their healing. It was unintentional, and Scott claims that they should have been able to dodge. Still, I feel bad. I don’t want to harm our pack.

But I digress; I was telling you about the deer.

Scott gave Danny and Stiles a head start to hide in the forest. Stiles is testing out this ointment which should help mask their scent, so they applied that, then took off, and a half hour later Scott sent the shapeshifters after them.

Mason and I whiled away some time working with the crossbow. He’s trying to learn as well, but he’s uncomfortable with the idea of shooting a bolt that might enter a body. He’s too sweet for this life, Jackson, but he’s so loyal to Liam. I can’t see him ever stepping away.

Liam and Brett returned first, with Stiles between them and Scott nearby, watching over them. Liam and Stiles had a rough start, back when Scott first bit Liam. Liam thinks Stiles is an asshole (true), and Stiles thinks he’s losing Scott to Liam (untrue). We’ve talked about it, and yes, Liam is Scott’s first bitten beta, and Scott feels a certain responsibility to him, but there is nothing that will replace Stiles in Scott’s affection. Not even Allison could do that.

Kira came back next, riding on Danny’s back. They were both glowing, which is intriguing, and that little fact sent Mason back to the laptop and his phone to capture pictures and start researching. Danny shook it off like it was nothing, but he’s lying, I’m sure of it. I’ll find out the truth later, never fear.

Malia came in last with the deer. She had it slung over her shoulders, and she was grinning so proudly as she brought it straight to Kira and dropped it at her feet. “Deer is my favorite,” she said softly, and Kira just started at her, all wide-eyes.

Stiles offered to call Chris to pick up the deer and clean it, so that it could be broken down into edible venison and frozen for Kira, a plan that Malia approved. Then Kira reached out and took Malia’s hand and every one else stopped talking.

“I like pizza,” Kira said, and Malia quickly agreed that she likes pizza as well.

I dropped them off at the pizza place on my way home, Jackson. The entire time they were holding hands, and Malia was beaming, stroking through Kira’s hair to groom her with her other hand, while Kira flushed and babbled nervously. It’s adorable.

Danny did finally ditch his ex. Again. He claims that he will not date anyone else until he goes to college in a year. I disbelieve. On the other hand, his exact phrasing was _I will not date anyone who is not already in college_ , which I suspect translates to college parties during senior year and hooking up there. I’ll do my best to keep him on track and find him someone decent. We will prevail eventually.

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

I have a job. And yes, I do hate it exactly as much as I thought I would. My father claims that it will teach me fiscal responsibility to exist solely upon what wages I earn this summer.

I’m pretty sure that all I’m learning is that I hate the feel of dough under my fingernails, and that while tea might be what London is known for, there are a lot of people who drink coffee here. I was barely able to step away from the counter for three hours today, and when I finally got a break I got pulled back in because someone needed to bake the scones and get fresh rolls in the oven to serve with the soup for lunch.

Not to mention that my shift begins at half past six in the morning. On my summer vacation. My father is a demon in disguise; please send help to exorcise him.

When Mom and I got back from Paris, he handed me a shift schedule and told me that since I’m getting no allowance for the next six weeks, I’d better report for work. I have shifts on Tuesday through Friday from half six to three, and then I go in again on Saturday from nine to two. And yes, I hate it. I never thought I’d dislike coffee as much as I do after only three days in that shop, but frankly, it gets in my nose and I can’t stop smelling it. My clothes smell like it. My hands smell like coffee and raspberry scones. Everything reeks. I shower three times a day right now—once in the morning before work, once immediately when I get home, and once more before bed. It doesn’t help; my sheets smell like coffee, too.

This is one of those moments where I’m sure that being a werewolf is _not_ an advantage.

On the other hand, at least it’s not the chippy down the street. I’d hate it more if I smelled like grease.

I’ve been emailing with Isaac and Marie since I left Paris. Isaac has been asking questions about Derek, like I’d know the answers. He seems to think that Derek and I talk more than we do, which is _not at all_. Marie, on the other hand, seems to want to be deeper in my psychology than you are.

She’s unnerving, but I still like her. When I tell her to back off, she does. But her questions are very pointed, and very specific, and I get the feeling that I’m getting a bestiary entry all my own. She says she’s talking to Derek too, about the different reasons that werewolves can become blue-eyed without being killers. 

Did you know he killed his first girlfriend? Marie probably wasn’t supposed to tell me that. Apparently his girlfriend rejected the bite, started dripping black goo like I did. I wonder if he used to think that everyone would die from it. I wonder what he thought when it looked like I would die from it.

I notice he didn’t do any kind of mercy killing for me. He was just going to let me rot.

Marie says that about one in one hundred out of all the people who are bitten reject the bite. She doesn’t know what statistics we have, but that’s what she’s learned from her studies. So it’s a risk. She also said that I’m the first one she knows about who rejected the bite and still turned into _something_. Usually it’s a one or the other thing. You turn into a werewolf, you turn into an abomination, or you die. I think I was supposed to die, and in a way becoming the kanima saved my life.

And made me kill other people.

I feel a little sick thinking about how they died so I can be alive, if that’s how it worked.

I wonder how Derek feels. If he thinks he should have just killed me like he killed her. Not that I’m anything like her. But he could’ve done it—he knew what was happening. Instead he just backed off and gave me time to die.

I’m glad I’m alive. I’m really fucking glad that I survived. Thank you for hauling my ass out of the abyss.

Can I give your email address to Marie? She wants to talk to a banshee. She’s never met one.

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

Yes, you can give my address to Marie. And I’m glad you’re alive as well. I asked Stiles if he knew about Derek’s past, and he told me about Paige. After hearing the story, I’d imagine Derek may have been very disturbed to see you if you looked as if you were rejecting the bite.

It’s hard to believe the summer’s half over. I’m sorry I haven’t written in a couple of weeks. We had to roust a nest of witches.

No, I didn’t know that witches could _nest_ either. I had to promise pictures to your friend Marie in exchange for the information she sent. Which is apparently also in the bestiary that she gave Derek, which we would have if he were back yet. Which he is not. Nor is he bothering to answer texts or emails. Danny checked and his credit card is still being used regularly, so he’s alive. He just wants nothing to do with us at the moment, apparently.

These particular witches come from a harpy background and were truly nasty things. They weren’t exactly human, and they didn’t have human desires. I mentioned the wendigo, yes? Apparently harpies feed on human flesh as well, although they prefer men to women. We discovered them when politicians started disappearing. As it turns out, this particular clutch liked to snack on the meanest, cruelest, and most corrupt. Which may have been intended to be helpful to society, but murder is murder and we had to clean up the mess.

The poor sheriff. Every time something new comes to town he rolls with the punches, but he always looks so bewildered along the way, as if Stiles is doing it solely to irritate him. They’ve been spending more time together, trying to get their arms around the supernatural influences in Beacon Hills, and bonding as well, I think. They both look better for it, and Stiles seems more settled in his skin than he has been for a long time. That part is good, a happy side effect. 

The pack is slowly coming together again. I’d say it’s because Derek is gone, but that’s not it. I think Scott is stronger now, a better alpha. He and Stiles work together well; they complement each other, which shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is. But Stiles is learning from Deaton how to support Scott, and it works.

We’re all better together.

Don’t blame yourself for those deaths, Jackson. You are no more to blame for them than Stiles is to blame for what happened while the Nogitsune was in his body, or Malia is to blame for what happened when she was a coyote. Just like I am not to blame for being unable to find people before they die rather than after. You were used by someone else, Jackson. It wasn’t your fault, and yes, you are lucky to be alive.

And I am _glad_ you’re alive. I do love you, Jackson, even if it’s not what I thought we would be. We were poison for each other, weren’t we? We’re better like this.

That’s a theme, I think, that we are all learning how we work, and that it isn’t the way we thought.

Kira and Malia were close at the pack meeting tonight. Kira lay across Malia’s lap, and Malia groomed her hair while we watched a movie. They seem quite well settled together after the last week. It is absolutely adorable, if a clumsy bundle of electricity and a feral child raised in the wild can be _adorable_.

Fuck me, Jackson, they truly _are_ cute. I can’t help it. 

I’m happy for them. It’s nice to see someone in a good place now.

 

Love you,

Lydia

#

Dear Lydia,

 

I found Derek. 

On my doorstep when I was heading out for work yesterday, looking like some homeless wretch who’d decided to kip there for the night (that’s British for sleep somewhere other than their bed, like they kip on someone’s couch).

I’ve packed up the bestiary to send back to you—his request. He’s not planning on coming home soon, and wants to make sure the pack has it.

I let him in my house to clean himself up, then later he showed up at my shift, stared at me like he did when I was in Beacon Hills. That wary look, the one that I think means he was waiting for me to die. He managed to drink three coffees and eat four scones and two muffins, as well as a bowl of soup and a sandwich later on. Yes, he was there for most of my shift.

He dragged me to dinner after—and I do mean _dragged_. Hand in my collar, yanking me down the street without asking. Because it’s _Derek_ and why would he ask me anything? He’s an asswipe, isn’t he? Your pack might be getting better, but Derek’s just as emotionally stunted as he ever was.

Marie sent me a legend she found about death and shapeshifters and banshees. It’s rare, because usually banshees don’t associate with weres, apparently, because weres want to use them to make them immortal. A banshee can bring a were back to life and if they do, they aren’t going to die again, not easily, and not naturally.

So thanks, you might have made me immortal. I know it wasn’t intentional, but I appreciate it. Peter probably does too.

And keep in mind that he probably already knew this. He seems like the kind that would. I’ll forward you Marie’s information so you can add it to your bestiary, too. We’ve talked a lot about what this might mean for me, and I told some of it to Derek. He relaxed when we were talking, like he somehow thought I was going to die right there in front of him before I managed to explain.

We talked a lot, actually. We talked about Paige, and about Kate, and I talked about my parents and about you. We went back to his hotel room and we talked about a lot of shit and it got pretty fucking late. Never did make it back to my place; I called to let my parents know I was staying at a friend’s place.

Turns out, I’m _definitely_ Derek Hale’s type.

 

Love you,

Jackson

#

Dear Jackson,

 

Congratulations, you managed to give me bigger news than when we walked into Derek’s loft and found Liam making out with Mason on the couch. And that was news for _days._ It turned out that they weren’t exactly _making out_. It was more that Mason had been talking about someone that he met at the beach, and Liam chose that moment to awkwardly kiss him, which of course was exactly the moment that several of us arrived and surprised them.

They flailed in a manner almost as impressive as Stiles, which amused Stiles and Scott to no end.

Suffice to say that they have been disgustingly cute since, holding hands when they think we aren’t paying attention (or touching pinkies when they know we _are_ looking). Danny gave Liam a friendly lecture that made him blush to his ears and protest that he is _not_ doing anything.

And they aren’t, I’m sure of it. As I said before, they seem so _young_.

We’re almost adults, Jackson. You, me, Danny, Stiles and Scott and Allison would have been one if she were still here. We are almost adults, and we are finally starting to make it, I think. By the time the summer is over, I think we’ll know where we’re going and I think we might even survive getting there. I wasn’t sure, but I feel better about it now.

I used to think of you and wonder when I would scream again, and now I know I won’t. I used to be afraid that I would scream for my friends, that one of them would fall next. But we’re standing stronger, more powerful together. We’re stable, and that’s not a word I’ve really thought about myself since the first time I blacked out.

We’re going to be okay, Jackson. We’re going to be okay.

 

Love you,

Lydia


End file.
